We both laugh and the tea is ready. We drink and chat about nothing and he says he has to go to work. There’s a moment at the front door and we kiss. It feels good and for the first time in more than a decade I smile inside.

I lie awake most of Thursday night; why is it that you can’t sleep when you most need to? What if they can’t remember me? What if they don’t like me and want to go back to Jack? And what would Emma do then? I conclude that it’s all a matter of time, time’s a great healer, and poor Emma’s going to have bigger things to think about when Jack gets bored with her.

On Friday morning at exactly nine o’clock I see a shadow in the glass behind the front door. I peep through the front window, fully expecting Emma to be there alone, having changed her mind or something. But it’s DS Percy. I let her in. She looks around.

‘You’ve been busy.’

I nod.

‘Yes. I’m getting my kids back …’

‘Yes. Yes. I know. I just wanted to come round and kind of close the case.’ She looks tired and angry. Not her usual self at all. ‘The thing is, Caroline, I know all this was you. I know you kept the bag and it was obvious it was you posting the pictures.’ God. I’d forgotten about the bag. She shifts in her seat. ‘I could have charged you, you know. Perverting the course of justice. Theft. I believe in things coming out in the wash, though. And you’ll still be called as a witness in the Premier Inn case. But as it is, it looks like this is all over and it’s the last time I’ll need to call round here.’

It’s more of a question than a statement. But she’s wrong. It isn’t all over. As long as we’re involved with each other in the slightest way it will never be over for Jack and me. I’ll always be wary of him and he of me. He’s got bigger problems now because Emma is more like me than I really care to admit and more than a match for his manipulations. I expect he’ll be distracted by her for some time.

But there will always be the parents’ evenings and the weddings of our children and the christenings of their children where we will both be reminded of what a cheating bastard he is and how I made him pay. A fragment of him will always be embedded in my heart like a shard of sharp glass, prodding me painfully at certain moments when I will have no choice but to remember.